Follow Your Heart
by Kethry47
Summary: Sam Carter's journey


**Author's Note:** This story was written for and first published under the title of "**Aspects**" in "**Off world Activation**", a Stargate SG1 fanzine, waaaaay back when. :) I hope you'll still be able to enjoy it now, years later.

It carries Sam's story only as far as it had been shown to us at that time and maybe, one day, I'll continue it. There are now many more aspects to this woman that I greatly admire, and many more chapters have been written about her. My thanks go to the writers of Stargate SG1 for creating this marvelous character.

**FOLLOW YOUR HEART (ASPECTS )**

_The world is filled with secrets and wonders of all kinds - but none as enigmatic as the many aspects of a woman._

The Dreamer

"Sam? What are you doing out here at this time? It's after midnight." Elaine Carter sounded more resigned than angry. If the truth be told, she wasn't even surprised to find her youngest child out here on the patio, intently gazing up into the starlit night sky. Elaine was almost sure she knew what had brought about her daughter's current bout of insomnia. She certainly hadn't missed the way eight-year-old Sam had practically soaked up every word their dinner guest had uttered. Stifling a sigh, Elaine moved closer.

"Sam?"

"Look, mom!" Her daughter's eyes never left the silvery spectacle above them. "Just look at them … all those stars … and there, mom! There it is … the moon." It was delivered with so much reverence that Elaine couldn't help smiling. She had been right. Jake's ploy to introduce his son to a different, admirable side of his chosen career, clearly hadn't worked on Mark, but Sam had swallowed the bait - hook, line and sinker. The stories about NASA – its accomplishments, past and present, and its plans for reaching out into the unknown - had fallen on fresh, fertile ground. Almost immediately she found her suspicion confirmed.

"Mom, …?" With a visible, conscious effort, the girl drew her eyes away from the enticing array of shimmering jewels above her. There was an unmistakable longing in her voice when she finally asked the question that must have been burning on her lips ever since dinner. "Do you think that one day there'll be girl astronauts, too?"

Still smiling, Elaine sat down on the top step, close to her daughter. The expression on Sam's face demanded more than a simple reassurance - she deserved a serious answer.

"Yes Sam, I am sure that very soon there'll be girls who'll go out into space, too." The small spark of hope that had been lurking in her daughter's eyes blazed out into a huge bonfire.

"Really?"

"Yes, really, Sam. I am absolutely certain." Elaine scrutinized the small figure in front of her. "Why do you ask? Do you think you would like to do that?"

"**Yes!"** There was no doubt in the strong, young voice. "Oh yes, mom, I'd **love** to be an astronaut and go out into space, to discover new worlds and all of the things that are out there. There must be so much to learn. … but …."

"But…," Elaine prompted. She was equally sure she also knew the cause for Sam's hesitation.

"Mark says I'm a fool." Sam's voice had dropped to a whisper.

Her beloved big brother's approval meant so much to Sam, but his distaste for everything even remotely connected to the military was just too obvious - and voiced at every opportunity.

"He says the only way to get into the Space Program would be as an Air Force officer, and they don't take girls. Besides, they'd never let me do anything besides make coffee anyway. He says it'd be a waste of my time." There was no small measure of disappointment in Sam's voice, and Elaine vowed to have a long and serious talk with her eldest child. He was entitled to his opinion, but it would definitely not do to foist it upon his sister this way.

"Sam, honey," Elaine drew her daughter into a comforting embrace. "You know that Mark does not like the Air Force -- "

"Yes, because it keeps Daddy away from us all the time." Sam nodded earnestly.

It was an old argument and Elaine knew that Sam had witnessed too many of Mark's disappointments. Only this year, Mark had been the star in a school play and Jake hadn't been able to come and see it. Mark's baseball team had made the finals and Jake couldn't go and cheer him on. And more, much more. The list was endless.

"He's angry with Daddy, too." It was said matter-of-factly. It **was** a fact. They both knew it.

"I know, Sam, but that's no excuse for telling you things like that." Obviously surprised at her mother's vehemence, Sam looked up. "Mark is angry with Dad and he has his reasons, but that has nothing to do with you. There is absolutely no reason why you shouldn't be able to join the Air Force and become an astronaut, if that's what you want to do with your life."

"Do you really think so?" The breathless query raised Elaine's anger at the two stubborn men in her life. They could keep their quarrels between themselves. She would not let them destroy Sam's happiness in any way.

"Sam, you are a clever and intelligent girl and you can become anything you want. It will take a lot of hard work and determination, but I'm sure you can do it. If you want to go out into space, you will find a way to do it." Elaine looked deep into her daughter's eyes. "Don't let anybody or anything ever tell you that there's something you can't do - and **especially, **don't let them tell you, you can't do it because you're a **girl**. You can do **anything. **Always remember that, and thenjust follow your heart -- and one day all your dreams will come true."

"All my dreams…?" As if drawn there by a magnet, Sam's eyes returned to the big glowing orb above them in the sky and moved from there to the sparkling, beckoning lights of a myriad of as yet unknown stars. One day ....

*** * ***

The Officer

„Carter's our expert on the Stargate."

"Where's he transferring from?"

"**She** is transferring from the Pentagon."

With easy, confident strides Sam entered the room and walked the length of the large conference table, her eyes not once leaving the tall officer who dominated the room from the far end of it. He just **had **to be the man whose exploits she'd read about so much. Struggling to keep her elation from showing, she came to a halt, facing him across the table. "I take it, you're Colonel O'Neill." When he met her look impassively, she drew herself up straight and raised her hand for a precisely executed, proper military salute. "Captain Samantha Carter reporting, **sir**."

He returned the greeting. That was just about the only reaction she got from him; but one of the others at the table responded to her introduction – one of the officers she had ignored so far. "But of course, you go by **Sam**."

Dark, wavy hair, major's insignia, slightly insolent manner - she tried to put a name to his face. From the files, which she had read about the first Abydos mission, he could only be Major Kawalsky.

She couldn't fail to notice the heavy irony that the remark carried. Sam turned slightly and looked him right into the eyes. This was nothing she wasn't used to. Somehow most of the men around her felt challenged by her presence, by her uniform, by her knowledge - by her gender. She coolly gave him her standard answer. "You don't have to worry, Major. I played with dolls when I was a kid."

"GI Joe?"

"No, Major Matt Mason."

"Oh. Who?"

"Major Matt Mason, astronaut doll. Did you have that cool little backpack that made him fly?" With a grin, a second man supplied the information: close-cropped hair, also wearing the insignia of a major in the Air Force - he would have to be Ferretti, the third survivor from the 'first mission'. But before he could really join in the verbal fencing, an authorative voice broke in and effectively put a stop to the banter. "Let's get started."

_**'General Hammond!**__ I've totally ignored him! It should have been my initial duty to report to __**him, **__not to Colonel O'Neill. In my haste to make a good first impression on my new commanding officer, I've forgotten all about military etiquette. God! Now it's too late to correct my blunder.'_ Quickly, Sam slipped into her chair. The general nodded to O'Neill. "Colonel."

"Thank you." The colonel turned away from her, addressing the general and the other assembled officers. "For those of you on your first trip through the gate, you should be prepared for what to expect."

At this opening, Sam couldn't hold back any longer. "I practically memorized your report on the first mission. I'd like to think I've been preparing for this all my life," she blurted out, eyes shining, an eager smile on her face.

_Follow your heart and all your dreams will come true._

_'This is __**it**__. __**This i**__s what I've been dreaming of all my life - my chance at exploring the universe. It's there. I've made it. Finally!'_

Abruptly her happy bubble burst.

For a moment, a derogatory twitch moved the colonel's lips, but otherwise he seemed to take no notice of her enthusiastic interruption. Instead, Kawalsky stepped in again, determined to show her her place. "I think what the colonel's trying to say is: Have you ever pulled out of a simulated bombing run in an F16 in eight plus Gs?"

'Sorry, Major, but you'll have to do better than that. You won't put me off that easily.'

"Yes!"

It threw him. His mouth fell open and disbelieving, he turned to O'Neill who answered the glance with a raised eyebrow and a shrug. Ferretti's face also openly mirrored his surprise.

_'Surprised you, guys, didn't I? Maybe even impressed you a tiny little bit? No – of course not. You don't give up that easily either.' _

Major Kawalsky had already recovered from his initial shock. "Well, it's way worse than that." Then Ferretti took the ball. "By the time you get to the other side, you're frozen stiff – like you've just been through a blizzard --- **naked**."

'Oh yes, **that** - especially the last part - is supposed to scare me off, isn't it? That's bullshit, Major, and you know it. Who do you think I am? Some simpering female who wants to play with the boys for a while, but will certainly back off when the going gets rough?'

Don't let anybody tell you there is something you can't do because you're a girl.

"That's a result of the compression your molecules undergo during the milli-second required for reconstitution." Sam's face showed no emotion as she brusquely delivered her answer. Her words wiped the insolent grins off their faces. 'Yes, guys. No need to look so surprised; I can carry my weight. I know what I'm talking about. You need me. You may not know it yet and it looks like you will certainly not like it, but you do need me.' Before her pleasure at her successful counterattack could settle, though, she found out that she'd made a mistake.

"Ah, here we go - another **scientist**? General, please!"

Colonel O'Neill's outburst surprised her. So far he had kept out of the skirmish. At first she had thought that he'd just left it to his men to sound her out, but apparently, as far as he seemed to be concerned, she might as well not have been present at all. Until now.

"Theoretical astro-physicist." There was a stubborn pride in Sam's voice. Besides, she was used to fighting for what she wanted and had come prepared. 'This is my dream and I've sweated and clawed my way up in the military to make it come true. I didn't come this far only to be told to be a good girl and go back to my lab where I belong.' She met O'Neill's gaze defiantly.

"Which means?"

Sam registered the general's reply to the sarcastic query and the smirks and sniggers following it with only one half of her mind. With the other half of it she was busily berating herself. 'Damn! Damn! Damn! This isn't going the way I planned it. This whole thing is going entirely the wrong way. I'm a woman and they don't want a womanon their team. I'm a scientist, and the colonel hates scientists. So now I'm doubly cursed. I have to find something to convince them – to convince **him**. If the colonel accepts my presence, the others will come around, too. No matter what the general says, ultimately, it is O'Neill who counts.' She addressed him again. "Colonel, I was studying the gate technology for two years before Daniel Jackson made it work and before you both went through. I should have gone through **then**. Sir, you and your **men** might as well accept the fact that I'm going through this time."

'Great Sam, wrong move again! Why don't you just call him a male chauvinist pig right to his face?' Sam resolutely put a lid on the warning voice in her mind. She knew she was still going about it the wrong way. She could see it in his eyes. But she **would** go through the gate. 'There is no way, Colonel O'Neill, sir, that you can make me stay back again. You already had your chance, now it's **my** turn.'

Before she could resume her attack, the colonel inclined his head to her. "Well, with all due respect, Doctor, I would –"

"It is appropriate to refer to a person by their rank, not their scientation. You should call me Captain, not Doctor." Sam's voice was icy. 'I know what you're trying to do, Colonel. Forget it! There's no way I'll let you reduce me to a simple scientist. I'm a soldier, too. I worked too hard to attain my rank, now you will show me the respect due to me.'

"I'm an Air Force officer, just like you are, Colonel. Just because my reproductive organs are on the inside instead of on the outside, it doesn't mean I can't handle whatever you can handle."

Now she had really thrown out the glove. Kawalsky and Ferretti were still trying to pick up their chins from the floor, but Sam thought she could detect the first glimmers of respect in their eyes. At first the colonel's countenance stayed impenetrable, then slowly the ghost of a grin appeared on his face..

"Oh, this has nothing to do with you being a woman." Absently twiddling a pen around, O'Neill folded his lanky frame into the chair. "I like women. I just have a little problem with scientists."

'Sure you do. Okay, Colonel, I have one more card to play. Let's see if you can counter that.'

"Colonel, I logged over a hundred hours in enemy air space during the Golf War. Is that tough enough for you, Colonel?" This time she saw genuine respect in their eyes, even in his. As a last resort she flung out the ultimate male challenge: "Or are we gonna have to arm-wrestle?"

That did it. Kawalsky and Ferretti, though still watching the colonel for his reaction, were ready to come over. And **he** finally granted her a nod of reluctant acceptance, too.

She was in! The adventure could begin.

You can do anything you want.

*** * ***

The Woman

'You idiots! You morons! You, you … **men**!'

The tent flap closed behind Colonel O'Neill's disappearing back, and Sam was left alone in the spacious yurte. 'Men are nothing but fools! **All of them**!' Sam's hands clenched for something - anything - to throw. White hot rage was quickly replacing the embarrassment that had been her first impulse when she had seen the way her colleagues, her teammates, … her **male **companions had reacted to her new 'attire'.

"Find me an anthropologist who dresses like this, and I will eat this head dress," had been all she had spat at them at the time.

Her at first more exasperated than really angry gaze had been met with …. yes, **moonstruck** looks from both Daniel and the Colonel. And hadn't even Teal'c given her a more than just incredulous glance? Gawking – yes, that was the right word for it. They'd been **gawking** at her - and the close-fitting, low-cut blue dress. Damn them! And then their absolutely imbecile babbling: "I don't know, it … it kinda works for me. It's …." At her glare the Colonel had swiftly subsided, only Daniel hadn't caught on fast enough. His enthusiastic "It's you …it's … it's definitely you," had only died when he finally took notice of her expression instead of her curves. Then he had quickly changed the subject to some damn anesthetic that the men had been shown. By then Sam felt really, honestly, deeply **pissed**.

But, of course, the colonel had found a way to even top his earlier ramblings. "All things considered, **Samantha**, it's best when we'll bring back an all male team next time."

'**Samantha**! He never calls me Samantha. Nobody calls me Samantha!' And then his parting shot: "Will you be okay?" 'Oh yeah, I'll be okay! I'm no baby. And what do you mean, 'I **look great'**? Dammit! Colonel, I'm not here to look great, I'm a **soldier**!'

Sam was seething inside. How dare they? How dare they insult her by treating her like nothing more than just a pretty babe? Her **'friends'** were just as bad as these Mongol throwbacks. Extinct for more than 900 years? Wasn't that what Daniel had said about this planet's society? What a pity their attitudes weren't extinct, too. They certainly deserved to be. "She speaks, she dies! … It's death for a woman to show her face in public. … You have to be properly attired." Mughal's remarks, together with his men's earlier behavior, should have been proof enough that studying an ancient culture up close was a really bad idea. Sam had wanted to leave, but no, Daniel had to have his way.

'I hope this is close enough for you, Daniel, because I'm certainly not getting any closer. I'm stuck here in this ridiculous dress, inside a smelly old yurte, while you guys have all the fun. '

If she had been at home, Sam knew that to relieve her anger and frustration, some poor undeserving piece of pottery would meet its untimely death at her hands, but here - what was there to smash? Besides, where to throw it? Anything she'd hurl at the leather and cloth walls of the yurte would only cheerfully bounce back. She flopped down on the cushions and glared at the offending hangings. '**Men! **They are the same everywhere, at any time**! **Idiots! Morons! **DAMN !'**

*** **

'I'm a human being, not property!' It hadn't helped her when she'd told Abu on the way here, and it certainly wouldn't count for anything in Turgan's tent. Abu had **sold** her, and now she **belonged **to this grinning, stinking Mongol - like some piece of meat. Sam gritted her teeth and scrubbed the vegetables in front of her with more vigor than really necessary.

"A woman does not speak unless she is spoken to." Turgan had tried to impress his opinion with a knife pressed to Sam's throat; and when she still hadn't submitted, he'd threatened her with a painful, ignominious death by suffocation, hanging upside down with an old cloth stuffed into her mouth – an example to any other possible mutineer. He wanted to teach her how to be a woman, to learn her place. 'A **woman**! I know how to be a woman! I **am** a woman -- and my place is **not** in the slave-pens!' As soon as she was out of Turgan's tent, Sam had tried to escape, but her attempt had not only been futile, it had almost resulted in some other woman's punishment.

So now she was doing some menial work in the women's camp, waiting for another chance to get away. Those close-up cultural studies that Daniel loved so much were way too close for her. The sooner she could put some distance between herself and this camp - no, this whole lousy, stinking planet - the better.

A shadow fell over her hands, making Sam look up at the girl who was throwing it.

"Thank you for helping my mother." It was Nya, Turgan's daughter. She squatted down next to Sam, babbling on about a woman's duty and her rightful place. Her grateful gaze soon melted away under Sam's glare. Sam didn't understand these women. Turgan was Nya's father. He had wanted to flog her mother. He was going to sell the girl to some other disgusting, stinking guy. But Nya still defended him, told her something about the law, about not being free to choose. Choose! Ha! What if Nya could have chosen? Well? She'd probably run to Abu, the little bastard. Someone really ought to tell the girl that a woman had to kiss many a frog before she might meet a real prince, and that her supposed prince had turned out to be nothing but a particularly nasty frog. And a stupid one at that. Offering Sam up for sale certainly hadn't got him what he wanted.

Nya's fallen face and the despair in her eyes softened Sam's anger, so she didn't voice her thoughts. All she said was, "You'll never be free until one of you says no."

"Will you help me?" In Nya's eyes Sam recognized the first spark of rebellion. All it needed would be some kindling to help it blossom.

*****

"I've never been so happy to see you guys." Her earlier anger at her team members was forgotten; Sam was only glad to be free again. She couldn't recall any other time when she had been so grateful to be able to change into her fatigues. The drab olive garments made her aware of who she was - more than she would have ever thought possible. "In my world I'm a warrior and a scholar. I do the work of men," she had proudly told Turgan. It was true and her BDU was an outward sign of her position. She'd never again scoff at it. Smiling, Sam settled down for the night, safe and secure. Tomorrow they would head for the Stargate and go home.

*****

A few hours later, and their plans - and their direction - changed again. Abu had arrived. A crushed, desperate Abu. He and Nya had been caught, and now Turgan was going to have his own daughter stoned to death for disobedience. Sam was livid. Especially as none of the men seemed inclined to help the girl. The colonel had even spouted off some nonsense about not interfering in another culture. What did he think this was - Star Trek and their stupid Prime Directive? Nya had broken the law because she had trusted Sam. Now it was Sam's duty to help her. Maybe the **men **weren't getting it, but **this woman** was. Thank God, Murghal had come up with the old law of 'challenge and let the gods decide'. For once those rusty archaic rules could be put to good use.

*****

"I challenge it." Sam's voice rang clearly in the early morning air. Confidently she stepped forward, out of the shadow of the men around her and into Turgan's line of sight. His face when he recognized his position was priceless. Sam knew he would like nothing more than to refuse her challenge, too, but he didn't really have the option. This time he had to fight. If he didn't, Murghal had told them, Turgan would lose face and the support of his people. Then she saw a change come over his face. He'd fight her all right - even if only to pay her back, and to finally put her into her place, but most importantly to prove to his people that he had been right all along. Only, this time **she'd** show him a woman and her rightful place.

While Turgan strutted around among his men, Sam divested herself of most of her gear - with the Colonel watching and spouting off proverbs. "When your back's up against the wall…and there's no tomorrow….Remember, the bigger they are…etc." His voice trailed off at her look.

"You don't think I can win." Sam tried not to let her disappointment show. He could at least trust her to know what she was capable of. If she was confident she could do it, why couldn't he, too?

"Sure I do. I assume you had at least some basic hand-to-hand?"

"Yeah, level three, advanced!"

"You'll be fine."

'Oh, yeah? Then why does it sound as if you don't really believe it? Dammit, Colonel - trust me! I know what I'm doing.'

Turgan turned to face her, a knife in his hands - a long, very dangerous-looking knife, a deadly knife.

'Oops! Well, and then … maybe I don't.' Sam looked back at her friends, and saw them surrounded by Turgan's warriors, knives at their throats to keep them from interfering. Sam truly was on her own in this one. Quickly she drew her own knife. Compared to Turgan's it looked tiny and harmless. As did she. Suddenly Sam realized that her best chance lay in Turgan's attitude towards women - all women in general, and towards her in particular. His desire to humiliate her; his overconfidence at his own, **male** 'superiority' - combined with her skills at self-defense - could bring him down. She swallowed, and clung to that thought.

A few minutes later the fight was over.

"Carter, don't kill him!" Heavily panting, Sam turned her face up, careful not to loosen her grip on the knife that held Turgan motionless beneath her. Nya! After all her father had done to her, here she was, still pleading for his life. Sam's glare fell on the Mongol war leader. "Well?"

"You have won."

'Yes, I have, you stinking tyrant. I have won Nya's life and a chance at happiness for her, peace for the Shava'dai and freedom for myself.'

Looking up at her teammates and meeting the Colonel's eyes, she suddenly realized that she had also won something else, something infinitely more valuable to her - the Colonel's respect. Finally!

*****

Time to leave this planet and its people behind. Time to be her own woman again, not fettered and hidden away, restricted by ancient, long dead laws, but respected and free. Sam turned to go back to the Stargate.

"Look!"

The row of concealing blankets fell and the women of the Shava'dai emerged, applauding - for all the world to see. Free, too!

"This is how you will be remembered, Carter."

Maybe not all men were morons, everywhere and at all times. And maybe this wasn't such a lousy stinking planet after all.

*** * ***

The Failure 

'Is this** it**? The end? The end of my hopes? The end of all my dreams? The end of my life?'

Slowly Sam let her eyes peruse the sight in front of her. A dazzling, white, cold nightmare – snow and ice as far as she could see. She knew if she turned around, there would be the same desolate, icy hell all around her. There was nothing else, no matter how often she looked.

She had picked her way through to the surface, reluctantly obeying the colonel's order to leave him behind and try to find help. It was their last, their only chance. She had clawed and slid, sweated and cursed her way up through the narrow, slippery crevasse – only to discover this harsh, glittering, frozen wasteland.

Icy winds assaulted her already numb face, the force of their sting penetrating the fog that seemed to have settled on her brain at the realization that there was no rescue – for neither of them. Dread and despair froze the last spark of hope that had carried her this far. With a final look at the frigid white peaks and plains of the vast, empty landscape, Sam acknowledged defeat and took the only way left to her; she crawled down into the hole she had scraped out of the ice – down, back through the huge ice shield that was encompassing the small cave deep inside the bowels of the unknown planet - back to the dying man.

She had failed him again.

*****

"Colonel, it's an ice planet. There's no chance."

He didn't seem to register her words. He didn't even seem to register her presence. His breathing was belaboured and shallow, almost non-existent – a sure sign of how far he was already gone. Her own head was pounding from the fall she had taken on the last few yards of the way down, and she knew she would feel still more pain from the bruising and abrasions she had suffered, if the low temperatures hadn't already dulled most of her senses. Shaking with the cold, Sam awkwardly stretched her aching body out under the inadequate blanket and huddled closer to the Colonel. There was nothing she could do to ease him, nothing except stay at his side. He would not be alone when the last breath of life oozed out of him, that was the only solace she could offer him.

"Cold, so cold."

"Shhh. I know. It's all right. You can sleep now." Suddenly Sam remembered his farewell to her through the radio when she was climbing up to what was supposed to be their salvation. "It was an honor serving with you, too, Colonel," she whispered. She could only hope that her words had penetrated his exhaustion and pain and had reached him. She wanted him to know. Everything else had already been said.

'I'm sorry, I let you down, sir. For once you depended solely on me, you **trusted** me to find a way out of here, and there was nothing I could do.' Her usually so sharp mind was already being slowed down by the sub-zero conditions, but she clearly recalled how hard it had been to earn that trust - and how easy not to live up to it now. She had spent hours working on the broken DHD, their ticket home, but it had all been in vain. She had tried every trick she knew. She had practically crawled into the circuits and relays of the alien device, but hadn't been able to even get anywhere near fixing it. 'I'm sorry, sir. I should have been able to make the damned DHD work. I'm supposed to **know**. I'm the scientist. I ought to be able to figure things out and make them function. I don't understand it, sir. You shouldn't be dying here. I tried everything I could think of, but it wasn't enough. I don't know why it didn't work, sir, I just don't know. I'm sorry, sir. You were counting on me, and I let you down. I'm so sorry.'

She had never before felt so helpless, so useless. In a final gesture of defeat, Sam lowered her head onto his shoulder, closed her eyes and surrendered to the inevitable.

"If we don't make it, I won't have any regrets." When, unbidden, her earlier words popped into her tired mind, she couldn't help admitting now that she had lied. There were lots of regrets; for things she hadn't done, hadn't said; things she would never do or say now - especially for all the wonders of the universe she'd never see now. And most importantly for not being able to live up to the trust put in her.

As the cold slowly seeped into her, freezing her – body, mind and soul - her memories carried her back to a warm starlit night long ago, when the concept of space travel had seemed like one great and glorious adventure.

… and all your dreams will come true.

' I never dreamt it would end this way.'

*****

Sluggishly Sam's half-frozen brain registered voices. Voices that didn't belong to her dream. Voices she recognized nevertheless.

"Sam! Sam! Come on! ... She's gonna be okay. You're gonna be okay." Daniel!

"As is Colonel O'Neill." Teal'c!

"Let's get them in the chopper!" **The general****?**

'What? …How?…Hypothermia brings on hallucinations, isn't that what they say? Does it end this way? Have I already crossed the final line?' With difficulty, Sam gradually pried her eyes open - saw Daniel's worried face hovering over her, felt herself being moved, heard still more – unfamiliar - voices. It was true. She wasn't dreaming, and what was more, she wasn't imagining things. They were real. They **had **to be real. Desperately, she tried to move muscles that resisted any command, tried to tell them what had happened, but they seemed to know.

Finally, she once again heard General Hammond's reassuring voice: "… let's get these people home."

'Home? Yes, please, I want to go home! I'd like another chance, sir. I won't fail you again, I promise.'

*** * ***

The Prisoner

I lie in my hospital bed, and I wish I would wake up.

Outside I can hear them talking - about me. If only they would leave me alone! They don't understand. They think they do, but they can't. Nobody can**.**

I was a **prisoner.**

A prisoner in my own body. I was there, cowering in the back of my own mind, watching this … **thing **… take over everything. No, it wasn't a thing; it was much more than that. It was **The Enemy**. It took control over my mind and over my body. It looked with my eyes. It spoke with my voice. It moved on my legs. It touched with my hands.

**I** was still there. I could see, hear, and feel everything. But I couldn't **DO **anything! I had no control! I was so … helpless … so powerless.

I was a prisoner.

*****

I lie in my hospital bed, and every time I close my eyes, my memory transports me back to Nasya. Again I am kneeling next to the injured man. Again I am feeling his pulse, telling the Colonel to move on. Again I am bending over the still, life-less face of the Nasyan, placing my mouth on his.

I was only trying to help him.

Again and again, I feel something invade my mouth, feel the surprise as the 'dead' man's arm whips up and holds me close. I feel the pain as the symbiote penetrates the back of my throat and enters my body. I feel it attack and fling **me -** everything that makes out the essential Samantha Carter – into a far corner of what used to be **my** mind.

I feel the Goa'uld.

"Carter, you okay?"

_'No Colonel! No, I'm not okay! There's a Goa'uld inside me! __**Help me! Colonel!**__ Please, __**HELP ME**__!' _That's what my terrified mind is screaming … but he doesn't hear me. All he hears is the Goa'uld telling him that Carter is all right. But that's not true. **I** am Carter, and I am not all right._ 'Help me, Colonel, please, help me! Please! I_ _am a prisoner … can't you __**see**__ it? Why? Oh, why can't you see it'? _

Again, I watch myself run up to the Stargate at the Colonel's side. I jump through the gate and arrive on the other side. I am back at the SGC, back home. But I am not **alone!**

"Carter, you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Thanks."

_'No, Colonel, no! Don't believe it! I'm not __**fine**__!'_

He turns away and leaves the control room.

_'No! Colonel, don't go! Can't you see that this isn't me? This isn't Sam Carter, standing there on the ramp, looking back at the iris as if she was surprised to see it there, looking at the control room as if she had never before seen its gray walls. Colonel, don't leave me! Help me, please! Colonel! Oh God, __**somebody**__, please, help me!'_

They leave. They all go their ways and abandon me to the 'hands' of my captor.

I am a prisoner and nobody knows it. Nobody, but me … and the Goa'uld.

*****

I lie in my hospital bed, and I clutch the pillow, desperately hugging it for comfort – which it can't give. I lie in my bed, and I can still hear them outside in the corridor. They are all there. Janet, Teal'c Daniel, the Colonel and Cassandra.

Cassandra! Cassie! Dear sweet Cassie! You knew. You were the only one who noticed. The only one who realized that it wasn't Sam Carter who stood before you. You knew it wasn't your friend Sam who was hugging you. You knew the enemy had entered your life again.

Oh Cassie, please forgive me. I couldn't do anything, I swear I couldn't. I tried, God, how I tried.

As soon as you recognized it for what it was, the Goa'uld knew it had to stop you from telling anyone. I watched you run away from the body that you had believed belonged to Sam Carter, your friend. I watched you cower in fear behind a chair. I watched your eyes widen as the enemy in the body of your friend came after you.

I watched. I screamed. I tried to fight. I tried to help you. The Goa'uld swatted me like a fly. I couldn't do anything. Nobody heard my screaming.

I don't know why the Goa'uld didn't hurt you.

I was a prisoner … and you knew.

*****

I lie in my hospital bed, and I can hear the monitors beeping behind me. Everything is fine, Janet says. All my readings are back to normal. Only I, I am not back to normal.

Footsteps behind me. The smell of flowers. The clink of a vase being put down. Someone approaching my bed, sitting on it. Daniel's voice, softly: "Hi Sam, how's it going with you?"

_'How do you think, Daniel?' _I can hear, smell, think and **do** for myself again. _'Thank you Daniel, I'm fine'._ Janet says so, everybody says so. Only I - I can't say so.

I was a prisoner.

Helpless and at the Goa'uld's mercy – till the very end.

"You did it, Sam. You won."

"It wasn't me."

"Oh, yes, it was. You hung in there. You beat it."

"The Goa'uld gave its life for me. It saved me."

I still see the Colonel's incredulous eyes. He thought I was hallucinating, but I wasn't. I didn't **do** anything. I **couldn't** do anything. I would be dead now, if it hadn't allowed me to live.

I was a prisoner... and my captor gave me my life back.

*****

I lie in my hospital bed, and I wish I would wake up - and everything had only been a bad dream. But I know I wasn't dreaming.

I was a prisoner, caught in my own mind - isolated, terrified and close to death - and I don't understand what happened. It's like a joke, a sick joke. Me, Samantha Carter, the know-it-all genius of the SGC, the woman who can spout off an explanation for almost anything under the sun at the snip of a finger - **I **am utterly lost. There is no way I can explain away what happened, because I don't **know**.

More whispering outside. Daniel has left. Again there are footsteps approaching my bed.

_'Oh, please, why won't you leave me alone? I just want to be alone. I __**need**__ to be __**alone**__.'_

Again there is somebody climbing up on my bed behind me. A small hand touches my shoulder.

"Sam, it's me."

Cassie.

I could ignore Daniel, but I can't do the same to Cassie. In my mind I can still see her frightened little face. I owe her. Slowly, apprehensively, I turn around and look at her. Instead of the fear that I saw there the last time, there is trust in her eyes again - the trust of a child who knows she is safe. I wish I could say the same for me.

"You're going to be okay."

Oh Cassie, I wish it were so easy. I wish this nightmare would end. But no matter that this strange symbiot saved my life, nothing can undo the violation of my body and the rape of my mind –

-- and for some reason I know it is not really over.

And that frightens me even more.

*** * ***

The Daughter

"It's your father, Captain. He's in the hospital, in serious condition."

She ought to have expected something like it; nevertheless, Colonel Makepeace's words came as a shock to Sam.

_"I have cancer."_

Helplessly, Sam thought of her last meeting with her father. It had had all the makings of a joyous occasion - the President himself was going to decorate her and her dad would be there to witness it.

It had ended as a disaster.

Her father's face appeared in her mind's vision. The happiness so carefully hidden in the depths of his hooded eyes, when he had offered her what he thought was the fulfilment of her life's dream - a job with NASA. How that happiness had quickly turned into bewilderment, had soon progressed to anger when she had declined without being able to tell him her real reasons. Sam remembered the way he had blandly announced his terminal illness. She recalled their parting, the rift between them more unbreachable than ever – the almost-hostility he had projected. The way he had left her behind. And a few days later, the way he had pushed her away again when she had called him before their mission to seek out the Tok'ra.

'_You didn't want me near you then, you didn't want my help. It took General Hammond to tell me that you had taken the apartment in town because you wanted to be close to me. You would have never admitted it. Why is it that we can't communicate except in platitudes - or in anger?'_

All that had been a typical example of their relationship. Two strong-willed people, unable to share their true feelings. Two soldiers, used to concealing their emotions even from those they loved deeply. And on top of that, Murphy's Law working overtime – as it so often had for them. As it did now.

'Dad! Oh God! Dad, you can't die! Not now, not while I'm so far away. There are so many things I have to tell you. Dad, please…I need you!

Don't leave me, Dad! Hang on, please!'

*****

"You're not kidding, are you?"

When her father saw the confirmation of her strange tale not only in her own eyes, but also in General Hammond's, his look changed from open disbelief to awe. "Holy Hannah!"

Sam couldn't help but smile. At this moment he sounded so much like his old self that she almost managed to disregard the tubes and machines that surrounded the deathly pale figure in the hospital bed in front of her. Inside the wasted shell there still was the strong man whose shadow she had tried to catch most of her life. Then his face creased in pain again, and the reality of his condition hit her. He was ill – terminally ill. This was the one enemy her father had always feared, the one foe he could not fight with any hopes of winning.

Unless she had found a way.

And - if **he** would let her help this time. She was offering him a chance, but would he take it? He was so stubborn, such a great believer in self-reliance and never once showing a weakness – such a **mule** at times. And yet…

'It hurts me so much to see you like this, Dad – hooked up to all those tubes and bags and instruments. I know how much you must hate it. You are experiencing your own worst nightmare; you lost control. The machines have taken over. I know they are keeping you alive, but ...'

Sam tried to focus on her father's face, on his eyes – where a small spark of hope was slowly budding.

'_I wish I could have told you earlier, Dad, I wanted to so much, but it wasn't possible. I thought you'd understand. You are a soldier yourself. But you didn't. I wanted you to be proud of me; instead you got angry.' _The picture of her father storming out of the room after their confrontation in Washington entered her mind again. _'When you told me about your illness, I thought you were trying to signal that you needed me – but I was wrong. You weren't. You didn't want me at your side. Instead you shut me out – again – just as you did when mom died.' _Resolutely Sam locked that memory – and the old pain - away again._ 'Don't push me away now.'_

His eyes were on her face. "They have a cure there?"

'I want my dad back. Please, let it work.'

*****

"I love you."

"I love you, too, Dad."

It was done. It had worked.

For a while – down there in the Tok'ra tunnels, with the sounds of fighting all around them and the still figure of her father's body in front of her - Sam had been afraid that she had lost her father all over again, that her plan had failed. She had sat at his side, holding his lifeless hand, desperately searching his slack features for movement, for a twitching of his lids, for a sign of life, any kind of a sign that he was still with her. Then - when his eyes had finally opened again, a stranger had looked at her. The deep resonant voice of a stranger had spoken its first words.

Sam's heart had almost stopped and all she had managed to say had been a fearful query, "Is my dad in there somewhere?" With a dry mouth and the sick feeling of dread in her stomach she had awaited his reply. Until Selmak had given control back to her dad. Until Sam saw the familiar grin appearing on his face, saw him jumping up and down, delightedly declaring, "No arthritis! No more arthritis!"

She had almost fainted with relief.

This was her dad! She him back!

'Yes, I love you, too, Dad. More than I can ever tell you. General Hammond was right; we are much more alike than I thought, but now we have been granted the chance for a new beginning. I won't let you slip away from me again.'

With a grateful smile, Sam watched the trim straight body of her father walk up the ramp to the Stargate together with Martouf and Garshaw. Assertive, a youthful spring in his step, an eager smile on his face, the sparkle of excitement in his eyes, fit and healthy. Young again.

This was the father she thought she had lost all those years ago. He might be leaving now to stay with the Tok'ra, but Sam knew she had finally got him back. There might be a physical distance of millions of light years between them, but they were closer now than they had been for years.

*** * ***

The Scientist

_Time! _

_Time – that's what this is all about! _

_Time – not enough? Too much? What __**is**__ *time*? _

_Time is relative._

_That's what I keep telling people. They look at me and they don't understand. But soon they will all come to realize the one imperative fact that we have to face right now._

_This time around, time is our __**enemy.**_

_I feel like the rabbit in Alice in Wonderland. The clock is running and there never is enough time – no matter how fast __**I**__ run. No time - not here anyway. Down there inside the Mountain, only minutes have passed. And millions of miles away, on P3W451, only a few seconds have gone by. There a tragedy is being played out in slow motion – for all eternity._

_It's all only a matter of time – literally. Time that we don't have anymore._

_Time! We need __**more**__ time!_

*****

It had all started … when? Only a few hours, …days, …weeks, …whatever, ago? When a strange distorted signal had reached the SGC computers from off-world; a signal they had finally recognized as an attempt of one of their teams to get home.

SG 10 was desperately trying to escape a newly formed black hole. A black hole that hadn't been there when they had sent through the MALP earlier. The same black hole that was probably responsible for the extinction of every indigenous life-form on P3W451. The same black hole that was slowly, inevitably, killing Major Boyd and his team.

"Time is time."

"Time is relative." Sam qualified the Colonel's statement absently. She was still trying to digest the implications of her discovery. A black hole. Major Boyd and his people were trying to flee the gravitational forces of something that equalled a mammoth vacuum cleaner, one that was sucking everything in its path into its voracious depths. She was watching something nobody had ever seen before – a newly built black hole in close proximity to a planet. No one on Earth had ever witnessed something similar. It was an event of galactic proportions. A once-in-a-life-time opportunity with staggering possibilities.

"What will happen?" General Hammond gave her a strange look. So did the Colonel. They both hadn't realized the truth yet. She had to show them what the picture on the screen meant. "The time dilation is directly proportional to…"

"Captain!" The general's sharp reproof cut her off. A glance into his eyes showed her that this wasn't the time for a scientifically correct explanation. She had to make it simple - and blunt.

"They will slowly be torn apart by the gravitational forces."

Shocked silence answered her. This time they had understood. Sam turned back to the monitor for another look at the dark whirl in the sky of the doomed planet. While her attention was still caught by the frighteningly beautiful spectacle of a dying star, she heard the general utter an order that let her head snap up. "Disengage the Stargate!"

_No! He can't do that. He doesn't understand. This is a scientific sensation, an opportunity that will never repeat itself. We have __**got**__ to study the black hole and its behavior. Cutting the connection to the planet means throwing away valuable knowledge_. _It would be a crime against science. There is so much we can learn. _

She had to stop them, make them see it, too. Shocked out of her fascination, Sam quickly faced the general again, trying to catch his eyes. "Sir, by some fluke of Stargate technology we are witnessing something the laws of physics say we can't possibly witness…"

"We are witnessing good men die in slow motion, Captain!" A sharp voice cut her flood of words off. Startled, Sam registered the volley of emotions that hit her from the Colonel's position. She noticed the icy tone of his words and the fire in his blazing eyes. He radiated waves of frustration, anger - disgust. Frustration that her theory was right and there was nothing they could do; anger at a fate that would kill a friend before his eyes; disgust - at **her**.

Cutting the connection might mean depriving science of a chance to observe a unique galactic phenomenon. Not cutting it would mean depriving four human beings of their right to die in peace – unobserved by prying eyes.

One a crime against science - the other, a crime against humanity.

"You're right , sir." _And I was wrong. I'm sorry, sir. Will you ever understand? Will you ever forgive me for being a cold-blooded callous scientist first and a caring human being second? I know I must seem like a heartless monster to you, but I just didn't __**think**__, sir. Didn't acknowledge that this was more than a chance to explore new ground, an opportunity to gather precious information. In my scientific zeal I forgot how much more precious life is. I didn't mean any disrespect to Major Boyd and the others; for a moment I … I just forgot they were there. I wasn't trying to turn them into a couple of lab-rats. Their presence on the planet, their impending death, the __**real**__ consequences of what we are watching just slipped my mind. I am so very sorry. I only saw the scientific gain - not the human loss. …_

In her mind thoughts of remorse and self-disgust were warring with each other. For once, she ought to have questioned her heart, not her brain. Yet, she didn't say any of it out loud. She knew it wouldn't be well received. An apology wouldn't make up for what she'd done.

The time was wrong.

*****

Hours had gone by since then.

Sam no longer felt like the poor, hunted rabbit that couldn't attend the tea party because time was short; she saw herself more like a hamster in its wheel – spinning continuously and never getting anywhere. That analogy was much more apt to the situation. She kept writing complex and complicated equations down on the board in front of her, and just as often she scratched them out again. To most of the people who happened to pass though the makeshift post that had been rigged outside the entrance to the SGC, it probably was just so much meaningless scribbling. Truth to be told, Sam wasn't sure they weren't right. Her knowledge of quantum gravity was obviously totally useless in this situation. Precepts, rules, iron-clad laws – nothing seemed to apply anymore. A classic case of reality defying theory.

The facts were still as daunting as a few hours ago. Through the Stargate, Earth was still connected to a planet that was being sucked into a black hole. Through the Stargate the black hole's gravity was pulling at the Earth; through it the black hole would soon start its deadly foray across the Earth - though the pentagon experts were denying it. Protected by the dubious safety of their labs, they thought they had all the answers, but they didn't. Her gut told her they were wrong.

_There __**is**__ a way out of this mess. I've only got to find it. The Pentagon people are on the wrong track. They simply ignore the facts, because what they see doesn't fit their narrow way of thinking. Nobody seems to have realized yet that we need to think on a larger scale than what has always been considered 'right' on Earth. We don't have exclusive rights on the laws of physics,… and I know that this time those supposed experts are wrong. If I don't find a solution – soon – we'll all be dead. Everybody, every last man, woman and child on the planet, just as every other living, breathing thing on this planet. We'll all end like Major Boyd and his team - dying a horrible, slow death in the maws of an expanding black hole._

Blowing the Stargate up won't solve anything. It might delay the inevitable, but it won't change the facts. The result will still be the same.

I need more time. I need to run a new set of equations. I need to find a different, a better solution.

Time – more time.

*****

"I take it, you still believe that our plan isn't gonna work?"

Tiredly Sam looked up from the computer diagram of the warped gateroom to the general who had come from yet another of the many conferences with the **experts**. The lines on his face were deeper etched than usual, his Texas drawl more pronounced, concern and hope sharing the depths of his clouded eyes. He still looked to her for answers, answers that she couldn't give him. She could only reaffirm what she had been telling him all along.

"…. six months after that we'll lose the state of Colorado, six months after that…." She didn't have to go on, he knew what she was trying to tell him. Softly she added what had been on her mind for a while, "At least Daniel will live out there."

She could see that Hammond wasn't convinced, he probably didn't want to be. Accepting it would mean admitting that they wouldn't get away this time. It was a very black picture she was painting – no pun intended. Her interpretation of the facts blew the imagination. "If you're wrong, and for once I hope that you are, we can restart the SGC with the second Stargate…." The rest of his sentence died away unheard. Sam's mind had locked on the one pertinent fact, the **second** Stargate. The deep leaden tiredness fell off her as her brain processed the information, connected prior events to the present situation - and saw the way out.

"Wait a minute! Sir, that's it. We do use the bomb, but we focus the energy of the blast…." As she prattled on excitedly, making use of the doughnut that was supposed to be her lunch to explain her theory to him in layman's terms – understandable terms, General Hammond's eyes widened. He **did** see it, too.

"Sir, we've got to stop Colonel O'Neill." Together they both raced out of the tent, oblivious to the curious looks that followed them.

Their time was almost up.

*****

_We made it – this time. Barely, but we survived with only a warped gateroom, a few bumps, bruises and cuts – and another life lost. Colonel Cromwell was our last victim to the black hole._

_General Hammond says I did it, together with Colonel O'Neill. He is right about the Colonel, but not about me. I didn't really do anything. All my knowledge about quantum mechanics and astro-physics - real and assumed – none of it helped me. I could have stared at the diagrams and equations for all eternity and I wouldn't have found a way to save us. General Hammond did. If he hadn't mentioned the second Stargate…._

_I was looking to science for an answer, when in reality is was just plain common sense that was needed. I was guilty of the same crime as the Pentagon people. My arrogance made me blind to all the possibilities. The Earth almost had to pay the price._

_I think all this wasn't really about time at all – it was about limitations. And I know mine now._

*** * ***

The Killer

He is dead. His blood is staining my hands. His face is turned up to me, slack, lifeless. The light in his eyes has been extinguished for ever. By me.

I have killed Martouf.

*****

"Martouf."

"I don't know this woman."

"But I'm right, aren't I? That's your name – Martouf."

"It is. How do you know me?"

"I don't, but I knew someone who did. Jolinar of Malk'shoor."

That was how we met; actually that was how **Sam Carter** met Martouf. I knew him before, or at least the part of me that had been Jolinar knew him, had known him for more than a hundred years as he told me later. Through him I learned that Jolinar had been female – and his mate. Through him I learned about the relationship a Tok'ra had with his or her host. Through him I learned to understand the strange – alien - part inside my own mind. Putting his own confusion aside, he helped me deal with mine.

"There's this left-over part of Jolinar that …feels things…"

"Like what?"

"Like some pretty deep feelings for you."

"You can feel how she felt for me?"

Apparently this had been pretty unusual even for the Tok'ra. Transference of a body – yes; transference of an imprint of feelings and memories – no. It had surprised him just as much as it had frightened me. Together we tried to cope. He with his loss; I with my inadvertent gain.

Though I think he suffered much more than I did. He lost Rosha, just as Lantash lost Jolinar. When we met for the first time, he finally got confirmation of their fate. He knew Jolinar and Rosha wouldn't come back – ever. Except maybe in me. I think Martouf transferred a lot of his love for Rosha/Jolinar to me. Through Samantha he still had something left of the love of his life.

I don't know what I felt for him. I genuinely liked Martouf. He was a kind, gentle man and a lot of fun to be with. He was a fierce soldier, loyal and prepared to give his life for what he believed in and for who he believed in. He was a good friend. He helped me find a new life for my father.

And I took his life. I killed Martouf.

*****

"We can stop this if it distresses you so much."

Sometimes in my nightmares, I can still feel the pain and horror that took over my senses as Jolinar's memories hit me with unaccustomed strength. With Martouf's help I was supposed to search her memories of Netu for a way to escape from the planetoid. I found out how she got away, all right. Though I wish I hadn't.

I experienced Jolinar's torture, the pain, the humiliation, the self-disgust – but also her will to live, to survive, no matter the cost. I felt what she had felt all those years ago, and I knew that I had to keep those memories from Martouf. Like Jolinar I didn't want to see him hurt by them. Like her I wanted to protect him.

His eyes told me that he was aware of what I was trying to do. They showed his hurt, but they also let me see his gratitude. As long as I didn't actually say it out loud, we both still could pretend that everything was fine. We could go on with what we came for unimpeded. We could concentrate on rescuing my father and weakening Sokar's position. We could go home with only our outside wounds showing.

The mission to Netu wasn't only a rescue operation, a lot of it was about protection. I tried to protect him. He tried to protect me. Together we gave our best efforts to protect the rest of our team mates. And all of us were there to protect the galaxy from Sokar's domination.

It seems we are really great at protecting. Only not this time. We protected Earth and the Tok'ra high counsellor. We protected the Earth-Tok'ra alliance, but who was there to protect Martouf?

*****

"You are no Za'tarcs."

"Everybody else was tested."

"What about Martouf?"

It was me who asked the question. It was me who raced to the gate room together with the Colonel and Anise. It was me who Martouf saw in his last moments.

We stormed the gate room and there he was, fighting the security guards on one side and a Goa'uld device on the other. His gaze travelled the gate room, until it locked on me. I saw the desperate plea in his eyes. They were screaming for help as his mouth couldn't. His face was contorted with the struggle going on inside him. A struggle for domination. Self-preservation against self-destruction. Tok'ra against Goa'uld. I could see the Goa'uld win.

All the time his eyes stayed on me alone. It was as if everybody else had ceased to exist in that moment.

Why? Why, Martouf? Why did you call my name? Why did you ask me, Martouf? Why not any of the others? Why didn't one of them deliver the fatal shot? Teal'c? The Colonel? Anybody? Why did they leave your execution to me?

What did you ask of me when you stammered my name? Did you really beg me to kill you? I know you were asking me to save you. Did I? Was killing you the only way to save your soul? Why couldn't Anise produce another of her miracle gadgets and get rid of the Za'tarc in you? Why?

So many questions, but no answer. Will I ever get one that takes away the pain? I don't know. I only know that the last time I saw you, you were smiling at me, happy, content, a man at peace and among friends. And now you are dead, by my hand.

I killed the man Jolinar loved for an eternity. I killed the man who helped me save my father's life – not once, but twice. I killed the man who became a friend, who perhaps – in time – might have become more.

I killed you, Martouf. I'm sorry.

*****

"How is she?"

"Still in shock. But she'll get over it. Just give her time." Janet's distant voice echoed her grief. The Colonel sounded subdued as well. It hadn't always been obvious, but Sam knew that beneath all the banter and grouching, the Colonel had truly liked Martouf, too. Apart from her dad, Martouf had definitely been the only Tok'ra O'Neill had trusted.

She also knew that they were right – that she would learn to live with what she had been forced to do, that she might even learn to forgive herself – in time – but she also knew that she would never forget. Jolinar had loved Martouf for more than a hundred years; Sam would remember him for as long as she lived. With the picture of Martouf's dying face burnt into her memory she closed her eyes as the sedative Janet had insisted on took effect.

A very good friend had lost his life. He hadn't deserved to die like this. Later she'd mourn. Later she'd find those responsible.

Good-bye, Martouf.

*** * ***

The Soldier 

"Carter, I'm making a choice here, to help these people. But if **you **don't make that bomb, I'm out of options."

"I know."

"So I have to order you to do it."

"Yes, sir."

*****

_Yes, sir. - I'll build you your Naquada bomb._

_Yes, sir. - I'll give you the means to blow up that space ship._

_Yes, sir. - I'll help you kill a whole civilization._

_Sure, it's not as if it were a __**real**__ civilisation on the ship, with real__**, **__living, breathing __**people**__. The guys are in deep-freeze -- civilisation-on-the-rocks you'd probably call them. They aren't actual people like the Encarans - and besides, we're only doing it to help the Encaran people to survive. __**We**__ brought them here; that makes their fate our responsibility. They have nowhere else to go. I know all that, sir. But, hell, sir, I don't want to do it. __**I don't!**_

Sam had gone off to work on the Naquada reactor - as she'd been ordered to do - but she suddenly realized that she'd been standing in front of it for some minutes now without doing any work on it. Her fingers were clenched so tight, the nails had dug painful grooves into her palms; her teeth were set so hard, it gave her a headache. And in her mind the chant was still going on: _I don't, I don't want to do it, sir. I don't … please, don't make me do it. I don't want to do it. I don't._

Yet - at the same time a tiny but insistent whisper overshadowed the desperate plea: _You may not __**want **__to do it, but you will - __**you will**__. _

Yes, sir.

With a sinking heart she finally admitted the truth to herself: The voice was right; she **would** finish the bomb. The colonel had given her an order and she would obey it. That was what this was all about in the first place - obeying orders. She wasn't allowed the luxury of Daniel's independence; she was military. And being in the military meant that someone gave an order and someone else carried it out. Colonel O'Neill had given the order to build a Naquada bomb and Major Samantha Carter would do it. There was no other way out.

Samantha Carter - Major, US Air Force; doctor of theoretical astro-physics - destroyer of an entire civilization.

The Gad-mer - waiting patiently in the gene banks of their huge star ship, waiting for the great day when their civilization would be reborn. A peaceful, peace-loving people - by Lotan's words - and every single one of them would soon perish in the deadly fire of one Naquada bomb.

A technologically advanced race - far beyond anything Earth had achieved so far. That enormous ship alone, with its technology - what she wouldn't give to find out more about it, about the way it worked, about the knowledge it had stored away in its bowels. So much to learn, so many wonders to discover - and a single bomb would soon wipe out the accumulated wisdom of 10,000 years.

_Yes, sir._

_Yes, sir, you have given me the order, but the responsibility is still mine. When you push the button, __**I**__ have given you the means to murder them._

_Follow your heart - and one day all your dreams will come true._

_How can __**this**__ be one of my dreams?_

Numbly, Sam made the last adjustments to the reactor-become-bomb. Her work was done. She handed the modified remote to the colonel.

The stage was set. The nightmare could begin.

*****

'_And they all lived happily ever after.'_ Silently Sam said a prayer of thanks to whatever deity might be listening. This tale had come to a happy end – sure, no thanks to her - but it hadn't resulted in the tragedy that was all she had been able to envision. A happy end – only that mattered. She grabbed that thought and clung to it like to a mantra.

Daniel! Daniel had had the presence of mind and the guts to keep looking for a better solution. He had found the way out that they had all overlooked in their preoccupation with the Enkarans' plight. Daniel had seen the potential of Lotan's ship, when by rights it should have been she who found it. **She **was the techno-genius. She ought to have known that the Gad-mer ship would carry the answer. But she hadn't. She hadn't been able to see beyond her own obvious distress, so she had sought refuge behind her military half and let the Colonel make the decision. It was sheer dumb luck that had saved them. But…

… in the end they had **all** lucked out, and sometimes that was the only thing that mattered, wasn't it?

So, why did she still feel that she had let down the Colonel?

*** * ***

Samantha (Sam) Carter 

'Hi mom! I know it's been a long time, but so much has happened since I last came to see you, I hardly know where to start.'

Sam got onto her knees in front of the carved headstone and placed a bouquet of flowers next to the inscription.

Elaine Carter

beloved wife and mother

taken from us much too early

Whenever she was in town, Sam had always tried to make the time to visit her mother's grave – or whenever she was in trouble. Over the years she had poured out her heart here more times than she cared to count. Sam's first teenage love, a difficult exam she thought she wouldn't pass, her acceptance to the Air Force Academy, her doctorate, the disastrous affair with Jonas – always the dark gray headstone had been a safe haven. It had been a sounding board for Sam's ideas and dreams; it had listened to her grief and had provided solace when things had gone sour. It had also been the place she had gone to when her heart had seemed to be bursting with pride and happiness, and there had been no one else she could share them with.

Sam liked to think that from somewhere her mom was still watching over her, and that this was her connection to that distant place. She hadn't been able to pay a visit for almost four years, and there was much now she had to tell her mom. Taking a deep breath, Sam sat down next to the headstone, one hand still absently arranging the flowers.

'Oh mom, I wish, you could have seen some of the things that I have seen. I wish I could really share them with you - everything, the good and the bad.'

For a moment Sam saw a kaleidoscope of bygone events and people pass through her mind. Then she again focused on the most important thing she had come to tell her mother.

'Remember, when we talked about my dreams of joining NASA and going out into space? I did it, mom, and without NASA. I'm going out even farther than I ever dreamed I would. If only you could see it, mom – it's called the Stargate.'

In her memory Sam re-lived her first sight of the imposing metal ring, saw again the fluctuating blue-gray surface of the active wormhole, watched the men preceding her on the colonel's simple order to 'move out', observed them walking up the ramp and disappearing into the unknown. Again she felt the same awe as she had on that far away day. Then she had only been able to stand at the foot of the ramp, staring up at the gate, her mind racing with complicated scientific formulas. She blushed as she remembered the nonsense she had subjected the Colonel to in her elation. In the end he had unceremoniously shoved her through the gate to stop her babbling.

'I've finally found a place where I really belong, mom. I'm no longer alone, I'm part of a great team now, a team that accepts me the way I am. Together we move out into the galaxy and explore it.' Sam smiled as she thought of her teammates, and what her mom would say about the weird combination of characters. 'I think you'd like the others. The Colonel is the best CO I can imagine. He is a wonderful leader and has made us into the team we are. Though it must be hard for him sometimes, he puts up with our little peculiarities and uses them to the best interests of the mission. He is strong and determined, but also amazingly soft and compassionate. You'd probably love his sense of humour, mom. It sure is pretty weird at times. Very often he resorts to more than a bit of sarcasm, but I think it is really just because he hates to let people see his true feelings. It's his way to hide. From time to time, he even likes to play dumb - mostly to make me laugh, I believe. In many ways he's a lot like Dad.' For a second Sam's thoughts stayed on her CO. There were those unresolved issues still between them, but she wasn't sure she wanted to do anything about them, whichever way. By unspoken mutual consent they continued to act as if that scene in Anise's workroom had never happened. With a sigh Sam shoved those memories back into a deep, private corner of her mind – where they would have to remain for the time being. She dragged her wandering mind back to the second member of her new family.

'Besides the Colonel, there is Teal'c. Technically, I suppose, he is an alien, and sometimes I think it is impossible to know him well, but overall I have found him to be a pillar of strength and the most honorable man I've ever met.' Pictures of the dark-skinned Jaffa flashed through her mind: Teal'c on Chulak, defying his gods to save a few strangers; with the Byrsa at the Cor'ai, ready to face the consequences of his 'previous' life; chasing a giggling little girl in a watergun fight, his normally so carefully schooled, expressionless face barely hiding the fun he was having; on Hathor's planet, piloting the death-glider that had been their salvation; Teal'c fighting at their side, bleeding together with them, prepared to sacrifice himself in order to save his comrades; Teal'c with the Colonel, with Daniel, with his son, Ry'ac, with Shau'nac, the woman who had meant so much to him. She saw the warrior, the father, the man – the friend. 'No, mom, I was wrong. Teal'c is no alien. He is definitely more human than many people I know. He is simply Teal'c.'

A smile lit up Sam's face as her tale finally reached the fourth and last element of the strange mixture that was SG-1. 'And then there's Daniel. I know you'd just adore him, mom. He's warm-hearted, gentle, so eager to learn new things; yet there is a stubborn streak in him, and very often he's plain exasperating. There are people who argue that Daniel is a danger to the team, but more often his knowledge and his insights have saved all of us. He's lots of fun to be with, and a really great guy. He's my friend, too – and a genius.'

Again her memories took her back - to her first trip to another planet, Abydos.

"Captain/Doctor you're gonna love this."

With these words Dr Daniel Jackson had introduced her to the key that would open the doors of the galaxy for mankind – and for Samantha Carter - at this moment no longer captain of the US Air Force and doctor of theoretical astro-physics, but a small girl again, caught up in a dream that had been brought to light by a simple dinner talk about space travel and the wonders of the universe years ago, a dream that now was about to find its fulfillment.

If you want to go out into space, you will find a way to do it … just follow your heart -- and one day all your dreams will come true.

"I think that this is a map of a vast network of Stargates – Stargates that are all over the galaxy."

Of course, he had been right, as he had been right about so many other things. What Daniel had shown them that day had become the foundation for the very existence of the SGC. With the help of his map and her computer permutations they now possessed hundreds, no thousands of Stargate addresses that would eventually lead them to just as many planets.

Sam remembered standing in the huge catacomb and letting her eyes roam around the strangely adorned walls, acknowledging the ancient symbols for what they were – her passport to all those as yet still unknown planets.

… and one day all your dreams will come true.

'No, mom, not 'one day' – **that day they came true!'**

Darkness had fallen, but Sam still sat in the grass next to her mother's grave, gazing up into the night sky, caught in the eternal siren song of a myriad of blinking and beckoning stars.

"Your journey has only just begun."

Not the End!


End file.
